


More Glimpses of Brief Literary Skits (A Remix)

by gomushroom



Category: Arashi (Band)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-14
Updated: 2013-04-14
Packaged: 2018-10-12 03:11:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,949
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10480800
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gomushroom/pseuds/gomushroom
Summary: Written for je-remix cycle 10.Quotes in italics are not mine; they belong to the original works. And, as it’s been eons since I read most of them, this might come out as a rather irresponsible interpretation of all of the works mentioned.To my lovely beta, thank you. :)





	

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [A Biography in Brief Literary Snapshots](https://archiveofourown.org/works/321537) by [Sadisticsparkle (sadisticsparkle)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sadisticsparkle/pseuds/Sadisticsparkle). 



> Written for je-remix cycle 10. 
> 
> Quotes in italics are not mine; they belong to the original works. And, as it’s been eons since I read most of them, this might come out as a rather irresponsible interpretation of all of the works mentioned.
> 
> To my lovely beta, thank you. :)

**1\. The Tale of Genji, Murasaki Shikibu  
(The Paulownia Court)**

“Matsumoto-san, do you agree with the new corner?” they repeated.

“Eh. Yes, yes I do. It’s a great idea.”

“Fantastic.”

And that’s why he now had to read 100 books before he died and then create a skit so that people would get interested. The list was unceremoniously handed over as Hino-san concluded the meeting.

Nino and Ohno shifted to go out from the meeting room while Aiba stayed for another meeting for his corner.

Sho cornered him when Jun gathered his bags. “You’re okay?”

“Yes. Why am I not?”

“You seemed to nod off somewhere in the middle and was quite surprised by the idea.”

He knew better than to admit he was distracted at the meeting. Sho could read him too well sometimes. “Nothing, I’m just a bit tired.”

“A bit?”

“It’s okay, Sho. It’s completely okay, and now I really have to go.”

“If you say so.”

Jun threw a forced smile at a not-yet-so-worried Sho and escaped.

He was already settled in the van when true realization dawned on him, he’s going to have to read many books. Somehow it didn’t sound like the end of the world. He now could have a solid excuse to read because it’s a part of his job. Nothing should be better than getting paid for something he loves.

He let the car ride, taking him to a location somewhere outskirt Tokyo for another 6 hours shooting schedule, lulled him into a short nap.

.

_“In a certain reign there was a lady not of the first rank whom the emperor loved more than any of the others.”_

.

Spreading his paper fan with a flourish, Jun then sat at the ready on his zabuton and waited his cue. The studio light dimmed and a soft spotlight accentuated his ridiculous sequined coat when he bowed deeply. “Good evening.”

Hino-san gave him a thumbs-up from the floor so Jun swiftly continued with his rehearsed lines.

 

**3\. The Shadow of the Wind, Carlos Ruiz Zafón**

Rhythm didn’t come easily. Everything turned out to be so damn complicated and while Jun loves complication, this one was certainly a new one.

Jun had always told himself that he loved his job; he did love his job, but he never had to be deeply involved in production. He learned that first, there’s always a script to compose, then extra meetings to attend at the end of long days, then extra efforts to prepare the skits, then extra petty annoyances he had to endure.

His respect toward Hino-san and everyone else on the production team multiplied tenfold and sealed forever within the first week of his involvement on the production team.

.

_“Time goes faster the more hollow it is. Lives with no meaning go straight past you, like trains that don’t stop at your station.”_

.

They would be filming the third set of skits in one day.

The head of wardrobe stared at Jun with disbelief as he requested three gowns for the skit, saying, “do you realize that you’ve not given us enough time for this, Matsumoto-san?”

The producers revised his scripts five times, questioning small stuff he had never thought about.

Background music? Did he want random music? Or if he had specific tunes in mind, he would need to inform them beforehand so they could make arrangements. Because of this, Jun spent his Sunday, his long awaited day off, hunkered in front of his computer at home trying to make everything work.

He sent Nino his seventh draft, hoping for some inputs, and got a smiley as a reply; _very helpful, Ninomiya_.

 

**4\. Catch-22, Joseph Heller**   
**(Chief White Halfoat)**

_“He did what?”_

_“He called me a wise guy and punched me in the eyes.”_

.

Summer SP episode.

Jun was supposed to come up with a looser interpretation of the book because, _let’s face it_ , Hino-san said, _the audience wanted to watch more hilarity instead of detailed bastardization of great literature_.

“I thought you signed me up for exactly that,” he retorted before he remembered that his method of composing hilarity was somehow detailed too.

“Matsumoto-san, I was saying…”

“I know. I’m sorry that didn’t come out right,” Jun cut him off before the misunderstanding grew even bigger. He drew a deep breath and cued Hino-san to continue. “You were saying….”

.

Three days for revising his script drafts was simply impossible, especially when Jun had to be at a different island for another variety shoot and yet another island for a commercial filming during the week.

On filming day, Jun sat with Hino-san and the other members in the studio, with two of the managers discussing how he had failed to complete the script for the afternoon skit filming.

“It’s not that we haven’t done this before,” Aiba started.

Sho pointed out. “Yes, we’ve done this before. It should not be a problem. What do you think, Nino?”

“If Leader is okay with it, I’m totally in.”

All eyes turned to Ohno who suddenly blinked and nodded.

“It’s settled then!” Aiba summarized the discussion, mostly ignoring Jun’s surprised expression, Hino-san’s smug smile, and the two manager’s worried faces.

“Wait,” Jun tried to reason. “Guys, it’s not that simple.”

“We can help,” Sho offered. “What book are we talking about here?”

“Catch-22,” Jun reluctantly gave away.

“Never heard of it,” Nino said, as he pulled out his DS and booted his saved game. “But it’s going to be alright, isn’t it?”

 

**5\. Cosmic Comics, Italo Calvino**   
**(Without Colors)**

Jun came to realize that Aiba really worked well with Ohno because he unconsciously had been pairing them both as lead roles for the last few skits. Nino and Sho made such a great combination in taking turns on the tsukkomi roles. Not that Jun would dare to use such terms in their production meeting, but he found the realization helpful in terms of planning the next skits. After all, it was always about seeing the whole picture and letting them all shine a little more.

Subjectivity notwithstanding.

.

_All around, the world poured out colors, constantly new, pink clouds gathered in violet cumuli which unleashed gilded lightening; after the storms long rainbows announced hues that still hadn’t been seen, in all possible combinations._

.

He took Ohno to dinner one night and between their hotpot dishes, warm air and cold sake, he asked the question that had been bothering him for a long while without necessary preamble. “Is this how it feels?”

Ohno took his time, picking his side dish before answering. Jun wasn’t expecting a heated debate after all and he slated the night to hear Ohno’s answer:

“You sometimes think too much,” Ohno shrugged absently. “Nothing’s actually wrong with that because that’s how you do things. I like the view I got from being few steps behind because I can see all of you clearly.”

“I know nothing is broken and this standpoint is not something that I want to take in order to fix what is broken, or worse, finding faults in status quo and trying to make something new work. I just want us to be able to level up, to be able to overcome new challenges, so we can be better.” Jun reached for his beer before he continued, “and we don’t have to fix our faults to be better, we only need to understand them and make it as our selling points. I’m fine with not being the best, but at least we should be the only one.”

“You lost me somewhere early on ‘standpoint’.”

“Sometimes I envy you.”

“No you don’t,” Ohno smiled at him. “You envy no one, because you already are comfortable being just what you are right now. No need to envy anyone.”

Jun smiled back. “I used to crave for something else, envy someone else.”

“You used to, right, but you leveled up and are better now.”

“Ah, you were listening.” Pleasant laughs bubbled up and Jun nearly beamed. Perhaps it was the booze, or Ohno’s companion, or just a good talk and food at the end of a long workday, he savored the comfort nonetheless.

“Well, I can only catch a word or two,” Ohno giggled, allowing their amusement to gradually subside.

“Leader,” Jun started after a moment of shared comfortable silence; when Ohno looked up from his small plate he continued. “I’m forever glad you won that janken.”

Ohno shrugged the compliment off easily, focusing back on his plate. “Now you’re just being mean to Sho.”

 

**11\. Midnight Children, Salman Rushdie**   
**(A Public Announcement)**

_“We all owe death a life.”_

.

With five of them lining up in crisp black mourning suits, mostly for cameras and prying eyes, Jun bowed his last respect.

_For what it’s worth, thank you_ , he wanted to say.

 

**18\. Glass Menagerie, Tennessee Williams**   
**(—A Souvenir)**

Not even a season passed by, and the now-popular skit has already had ‘impromptu comedy’ label attached to it.

Jun couldn’t say that he was unhappy with how things worked out at the end. He could’ve asked for more hints of seriousness, he could’ve written more dramatic skits, but at the end, Arashi had always played the game with their own strength. And it was a damn variety show after all.

Who would want to watch Sho as a long-suffering mother trying to fix his limp daughter, Ninomiya, with Aiba’s friend, Ohno the fisherman? Who would want to see Nino and Ohno sharing a quiet dance at the climax of the story?

He suspected no one would want that.

Or would anyone?

As Jun pondered along how Nino and Ohno should share their quiet dance, nothing clicked. At the end he decided to go on with a long action list instead of detailed script. It was of course against his tendency to put everything in fixed lines of scripts but somehow he knew that they would be fine.

.

_—for nowadays the world is lit by lightning ! Blow out your candles, Laura – and so good-bye._

.

Jun blew the candles out and the overhead lighting was off, leaving only darkness on the stage.

"Who the hell is Laura? I thought my name was Rika-chan?" Aiba whispered.

"The camera is still rolling and we can hear you, Aiba-chan. Shut up!"

 

**20\. The Wind-Up Bird Chronicles, Haruki Murakami**   
**(The Simplest Thing・Revenge in a Sophisticated Form・The Thing in the Guitar Case)**

_“I don’t want to stick my nose in where I’m not wanted, but just let me say this: you really ought to sit down and think hard about what it is that’s most important to you.”_

.

And for the complication; the additional sword fight.

Turning the skit fight scene into the highlight of the script would be great but Jun knew that it too would turn south fast enough. Sure it would be interesting, and if he cast Ohno as the king it would only lead to hilarity. Yet he figured it would be too much burden for the art department.

He had planned to request kimono sets for everyone already so additional katanas would be too much. Or perhaps, if the idea stuck and he pushed hard enough, he could persuade them to steal some unused katanas from the drama department.

There was probably a jidai drama filming around the studios somewhere and there shouldn’t be any harm of borrowing several katanas for an hour or two.

But then if Aiba broke one of them, Hino-san would have to propose an extra budget for a replacement. At that thought, it would be better to axe the idea before it grew on uncontrollably, or he would need to talk with Hino-san on the next meeting. Or since he was plotting to have Aiba learning how to write kanji with brushes, he could replace the sword battle with a kanji writing battle and Ohno would win.

It would be fun and imagine the amount of mess they would have to clean up from the floor, or from the poor tarp they would need to remember request; once the brushes were flung, it would be chaos, and Sho would gladly join the revelry.

He would really need to talk with Hino-san about it.

Now, if Nino was one of the grand ladies, bitter and busy sulking in his corner with a beautiful kimono and then not doing anything but lounging about and throwing sour glares at the festivities, then Jun wondered who would be left to cast for himself. He would have to dress himself in another set of a sparkly kimono. And who was he supposed to be this time?

 

**27\. This is Just To Say, William Carlos William**

Rays of sunlight assaulted his eyes the moment he stirred awake. Jun groaned and buried his face back in the pillows after an attempt to open his eyes. In the unfamiliar pillows smelled like fresh lavender. Unfamiliar? Fresh lavender?

He jolted awake and sat down on the bed, causing the underlying headache to surface with a vengeance. "Ugh!" He tried to remember the reason he was in that bed in the first place as he cradled his head in his palms.

Glimpses of blurred images flashed in his mind.

Kame’s smile, the wedding ceremony, the taxi ride, Kame’s smile, Kame’s hands on his cheek, Kame’s shy smile. Kame’s bed.

_Oh._

Jun looked under the covers, just checking whether he was fully clothed or not. He was not.

_Oh. Okay._

He gave the small bedroom another glimpse, finding his clothes stacked on a chair and the fact that Kame had almost nothing adorning his bedroom. Out of habit, he searched for an alarm clock to no avail, but he was sure that it was late in the day.

Jun padded out of the bedroom to the cluttered living room. Kame was nowhere in sight, but the kitchen counter was sparkly clean. Shaking his head to wake up a bit, Jun went to the kitchen. He needed coffee before anything else. Next to the sink, a glass of water and a bottle of aspirin were placed on top of a piece of paper with his name on it. Jun frowned, taking the paper and scanned the scrawl.

.

_I have early appointments._   
_Forgive me but there's no fresh coffee._   
_Here's some aspirins._   
_P.S. Door is auto-lock._

.

You’ve got to be kidding me, he almost swore loudly before remembering his fierce headache. How the hell could one function without coffee? He took the two aspirins and weighed his options.

One. He could go home, while first remembering to find the first vending machine for his coffee fix.

A good option.

Two. He could stay and wait for Kame to come home. Not a good option.

Or, three, he could leave something for Kame and at least he wouldn't feel guilty for just leaving the place.

A better option.

Okay, the third then.

But leave what?

He reached for the fridge handle and pulled it open. Two cans of beer and two loaves of bread sat sadly on the middle rack. A large bottle of an energy drink stood lonely on the bottle rack.

Very sad, Jun mused.

Back to option one then.

He went back to the bedroom, changed back quickly to his own clothes while still considering. If memory served correctly, he went here around midnight, pretty much buzzed and bothered. Jun tried to shrug his unwelcomed guilt, getting out from the bedroom and heading straight to the door before he changed his mind.

As he took one last look around the apartment, something clicked.

He went back to the kitchen and grabbed the paper he put back under the aspirin bottle earlier. He unearthed a pencil from under some books on the counter and then wrote on the back of the paper.

Half cursing that he should not stay overnight ever again unless there was coffee involved the next morning, Jun auto-locked the door behind him.

.

_Thanks for the aspirin._

 

**33\. White Nights, Fyodor Dostoevsky**

“I’m not playing the girl in the sketch this time, am I?”

Jun grinned. “Don’t worry. You’re playing the pitiful main character who feels all alone. Aiba is the innocent girl.”

“Why don’t you play him for a change? Does it hit too close too home?”

Nino’s seriousness annoyed him. “I’m not alone. I have you, I have them,” he said, pointing at the rest.

“That’s just sad, Jun. That’s just sad. Isn’t there anybody else?”

Jun closed the book. “You’re not exactly swimming in companionship either.”

Nino patted Jun’s head. “You guys are enough for me.”

Jun sighed. “Then shut up.”

.

_“May you be for ever blessed for that moment of bliss and happiness which you gave to another lonely and grateful heart.”_

.

And just to prove a _fucking_ point, Jun proposed to play the innocent girl this time.

The discussion was filled with whispered doubts, but Jun had them all convinced when he declared openly that they would have to bring in unpredictable points so the viewers wouldn’t be bored. It was a variety show after all.

Hino-san was surprisingly impressed and then complied immediately. He wouldn’t want to risk Jun changing his mind.

The head of wardrobe department gladly revised the costume line up this time.

 

**39\. Leaves of Grass, Walt Whitman**   
**(I Sing the Body Electric)**

 

_O I say these are not the parts and poems of the body only, but of the soul,_   
_O I say now these are the soul!_

.

"Perhaps we need to interfere," Sho brought up the topic during one of their morning filmings when his stylist was busy minding his disheveled hair.

"Perhaps we just need to let him go through with it," Aiba, laying almost lifelessly on his seat, didn’t even open his eyes.

Two minutes of silence passed.

"What?" Nino sighed, currently curling sleepily on the sofa.

"You should follow the conversation and/or say something starting with 'perhaps we…' regarding him," Sho pointed out, literally and with his eyes open.

"I should not."

"Nino," Ohno squirmed, somewhere under Nino on his corner of the couch so he could send a proper sleepy disapproving stare.

"It's not like this is his first time," Nino mumbled, as he buried his face into the cushion, wanting to kick Ohno for shifting but deciding against it.

"He has a point though," Aiba had to agree to that.

"He always does. It doesn't mean that…."

Sho cut him off, "Remember his first?"

Nino slightly lifted his face, aiming a sleepy menacing look at Sho, "I will need coffee if we're going to spend this morning reminiscing."

"We won’t then. I'm not going down the hall just to fetch you a cup," Sho closed his eyes again.

Aiba vaguely remembered.

 

**46\. The Way of The World, William Congreve.**   
**(Scene The Last)**

Sho, Aiba, and Ohno squeezed themselves onto a couch and read through Jun’s 10-page detailed script.

Jun waited for more complications and protests and nursed his third coffee for the morning.

.

_"In the meantime…let me before these witnesses restore to you this deed of trust: it may be a means, well managed, to make you live easily together."_

.

“I got lead role!” Aiba shrieked over his script, then kept on reading while muttering, “This is so cool!”

Jun then had the pleasure to see the rare bloom-into-a-smile face from Ohno when he finished first and looked up to meet Jun’s waiting stare.

“You really wrote this?”

Jun nodded and was about to ask him his thoughts on the script when Sho’s sparkly eyes met his gaze. “This is excellent.”

Ohno added, “It’s like a real script, a real film script!”

“I didn’t know that you were going through this much trouble with the script. The notes you provided for filming had already been a treat. This is just amazing. I’ve never seen something like this in variety,” Sho said as he went back to the script for a reread.

Jun shrugged, though he had to admit he was happy.

Nino strolled into the room, holding two cups of steaming coffee, handing one to Sho.

He perched on the couch’s arm, sipping his coffee, “I hate you for putting me in a Victorian dress for this.”

“Nino!” Aiba finally finished reading, “you’re going to be my wife.”

Rolling his eyes, this time Nino turned to Jun. “Correction. I really hate you.”

Jun laughed; it was nice to be reminded that hard work was highly valued, and mocked with love.

 

**58\. On The Road, Jack Kerouac**

It would have been easier for him to go alone.

The crowds were already screaming their lungs out by the time the show started with scorching hot fireworks. Jun didn’t really know why but there must be a reason for him to have he sat down here besides Toma. He was trying his best to look nonchalant and out of place inside the carnival in Sapporo Dome, in the middle of a cold autumn.

Near the MC break, because Jun knew exactly what was going to happen and when everything would happen, Toma nudged him, “stop looking so worried.”

“I’m not.”

“Yes, you definitely are, “he half-shouted, waving his Nakamaru jumbo uchiwa along with the beat of the music. “Just enjoy the show. You deserve this much after all the planning.”

It would not be him who deserved the praise, Jun wanted to correct him; it’s the ones on the stage right now.

Not long after, Kame sauntered into their section hanamichi, recognizing him among the other fans with big glasses up his nose. Toma, and probably everyone on their section, were busy waving his hands and happily neglecting his uchiwa.

Jun stared straight into his gaze and smiled. Kame locked his gaze, spiking his half curtsey with a peace sign.

One split second.

Jun wanted to believe that the sign was directed only for him. Yet, it would never be only for him.

.

_“[S]top breathing for 3 seconds, listen to the silence inside the illusion of the world, and you will remember the lesson you forgot.”_

.

The next split second.

The whole section exploded in delighted screams and Kame walked toward the center stage without a backward glance.

 

**65\. Wide Sargasso Sea, Jean Rhys**

_“I was longing for night and darkness and the_   
_time when the moonflowers open.”_

.

Perhaps he should’ve backed down once in a while; perhaps he was too old for all of this. Every single one of his brain cells hurt; they had to film three skits today and Jun was already on his fourth cup of coffee. He managed to get to the studio at 9 AM despite running on 2 hours of sleep.

The fucking price of a wild night.

“Let me take that for you.”

Jun hesitantly turned to find Aiba standing over him, hand reaching for his half empty coffee cup.

“What? Why?”

Taking Jun’s cup out of harm’s way, Aiba then shoved a pair of sock monkeys at him. “Here, have these instead.”

“Aiba! Please, don’t start with me. I really don’t want to know—”

“It’s okay, Jun. It’s okay.”

It is not okay, Jun was sure of that. But Aiba had taken his coffee cup away and he didn’t have the energy to utter further protest. The others hadn’t arrived yet and their green room was blissfully quiet, and there he was with a pair of hideous sock monkeys on his lap.

When Aiba came back with his own coffee, settling on his corner seat, Jun could only throw his tired glare at him.

“I’m definitely not going to hug this while I rest for a while.”

“I know.”

“Maybe as pillows.”

Aiba smiled briefly from his seat before returning his focus on his script. “They probably won’t be here for another half hour.”

Finally giving up, Jun eyed the sock monkeys for the last time and set it on the corner of his long chair.

“No need to get sappy and put a blanket over me,” he muttered as he closed his eyes. It would only be for a few minutes, and maybe his head would not hurt after a short nap.

“I know,” Aiba muttered as he flipped the page.

 

**67\. Twenty Poems of Love and One Song of Despair, Pablo Neruda**   
**(XVII Thinking, Tangling Shadows)**

_Thinking, tangling shadows in the deep solitude._   
_You are far away too, oh farther than anyone._

.

Kame had long decided to skip the usual New Years Party. Toma was not happy with his decision, claiming that he didn't have time to find a new wingman.

"It doesn't mean partying is off limit just because you're dating Jun. He’s on tour somewhere right now anyway," Toma faked a pout one night. He had ridiculously spent the last few days trying to convince Kame to come with him to the annual revelry. So far nothing was accomplished.

"You're just going to abandon me within the first five minutes," Kame replied. "And I'm not dating Jun."

"Are you still miffed at that? I had only left you for barely 30 minutes and the next thing I knew, you were already gone. And he _is_ your boyfriend, isn't he?"

"Barely 30 minutes? I didn't know anyone else on that party, okay. You, you only shoved me a glass of beer and left," Kame continued to sort his clothes and wondered why the hell Toma showed up on his drama green room at this time of day. "And he is not my boyfriend. Would you just stop?"

"Still miffed then," Toma commented. Unlike Kame he didn't have to be anywhere until later.

The plan was to crowd Kame, make his detour to visit the studio, keep on grumbling that he would hate to go alone, and pull off his best pleading face while he was at it.

"I'm not going," Kame sternly glared at him.

"But—"

"No amount of cajoling will do, okay," he grabbed his cup of coffee, taking last sip before setting it aside. "I have to work early the next day."

Toma huffed in defeat. The ultimate excuse were spoken, leaving him slumped against his chair to brood. "If you haven't said you'll be at my birthday party, I'd have broken down and cried right here right now."

"I won't miss it for the world, don't worry," Kame grabbed his bag. "I've to go. There’s still another bloody photo shoot. See you."

Watching Kame half-running to the door, Toma felt a bit annoyed. Sweet-talking Kame when he was tired and unguarded usually worked. He should have headed home after his filming after all.

 

**71\. Madame Bovary, Gustave Flaubert.**

The most important thing was that he gradually realized that he didn’t have to always be the center of everything. Not that he had ever thought that, but the fact stood out even more now that ever.

.

_“Haven't you ever happened to come across in a book some vague notion that you've had, some obscure idea that returns from afar and that seems to express completely your most subtle feelings?”_

 

**80\. I Am a Cat, Natsume Souseki**

_“It is painfully easy to define human beings.”_

.

“I’m home,” he said out of habit as he opened the door and stepped into a familiar space, into a cool dark haven from the bitching summer, into his home. Nothing happened when Jun stood waiting for something that he thought would miraculously happen. Closing his eyes, he let himself slid down to the floor and finally let the burden of his day fall upon him.

He just wanted to be home, to be where he could detach free from restraining obligations and expectations.

Yet now everything hurt even more.

 

**85\. The Picture of Dorian Gray, Oscar Wilde**

  
Q: We asked once more how he would like to frame the future in a time like this.

  
A: Out of everything, things that we can do are to search, challenge, fail, repeat, until we succeed. Half of the time this system works but sometimes life gets in the way. When something that is precious fails on you, there’s nothing we could do but to take another challenge.

  
You know, sometimes you already find out what you want, but you keep on failing to make it work. In times like this, I believe that we need to keep going, or keep on failing and take the challenge again, because at the end, if you work hard enough, that, in itself, is a talent…or so Ohno-kun said. (laugh).

.

_“Experience is merely the name men gave to their mistakes.”_

.

Kame wanted to hurl the shiny magazine to the greenroom door with enough force so it’d tear apart, so he wouldn’t be tempted to do another reread.

Cheeky bastard, he wanted to say, using plural pronouns when all he could read was a straight blow to the heart. To _his_ heart.

 

**90\. The House on Mango Street, Sandra Cisneros**

**(Laughter)**

Spring SP episode.

Somewhere along the way, Jun stopped providing a full script for every episode. He didn’t even realize he got familiar with the filming situation and he was down to only providing rundown points for the crew and the guys.

At the end it wasn’t that bad to have unpredictable scenes. Not to mention that he could focus more on the loose interpretation aspects because yes, the audience would want to watch hilarity. And if it’s what they wanted, who was he to come between them?

.

_“Our laughter for example.”_

.

Yet, it’d take a thousand years before he would allow A no Arashi on his book corner.

 

**98\. Soul Mountain, Gao Xingjian**

They janken-ed to decide the damsel of the story, happily ignoring Sho’s suggestions based on his claim of helpful Wikipedia links about staying true to satirical and historical mode.

“Wait!” Aiba again started, withdrawing his paper palm to his side. “Why should we do this?”

“Aiba-chan, we don’t have much time here” Nino said, glancing over to Jun next to him who was trying not to lose his composure. It was three hours before their recording time and there they were in the hallway of their green room holding their scissor fingers midair.

“What is it?” Sho asked, standing alongside Ohno with their paper palm out as they waited for Aiba.

“Why don’t we use this as an opportunity to try something new?”

“Aiba—” Jun said in a low voice.

“No, I didn’t mean to muck the whole skit, Jun. I swear I didn’t,” Aiba reasoned. “I just remembered that on the last skits, Leader and I were always the ones who played damsels!”

Nino sighed. “And your point is?”

“It should be Sho this time. Doesn’t anyone remember how great he was with the maid costume?”

“What the hell? Why am I in this conversation? I didn’t say anything about anything!”

Nino sighed again. “Well, if you put it that way…”

“I know, right?”

“Right,” Jun nodded. At least the idea wasn’t as bad as he thought it would be. At least it didn’t involve a white lab coat for Aiba and four labels of ‘assistant’ for the other four. At least it didn't involve animals in studio. He was desperate enough to deal with the half-assed suggestion knowing that it would be much easier to deal with Sho’s complaints rather than Aiba and his wild imagination.

“The fuck?” Sho clutched Jun’s arm in protest while his defense had been reduced to nothing but a swear word. Ohno helpfully patted his shoulder in sympathy.

“It’s settled then,” Jun hurriedly closed the discussion, trying to pry the grip off his arm. “I’ll go to the wardrobe-san cubicle and then throw myself prostate on the ground and beg her to search for Sho’s old maid costume. She’s not going to be happy about this.”

“You think?” Sho howled with his grip now on Ohno’s left arm.

Ohno silently signaled Jun to make his escape as soon as possible, while supporting Sho, effectively blocking him to pounce at Jun for siding with Aiba. Nino and Aiba were not properly hiding their giggles as they helped Ohno as well.

.

_"[I]n the end all you can achieve are memories, hazy, intangible, dreamlike memories which are impossible to articulate."_

.

Deep inside, Jun truly wished that they would ask him to do another set of a hundred books.

 

**100\. The Odyssey, Homer**

Jun stood in front of his door like an idiot. Outside, a storm raged and inside his mind, one thousand possible futures whirled.

.

_“Even a fool learns something once it hits him.”_

.

But he didn’t know what he was offering or what he wanted. “Please be part of my Really Gay Lifestyle?” Or just simply “Hey, my favorite days include waking up next to you. Can we make every day my favorite day?” Or maybe to dance in the rain like two crazy people.

All in all, he wanted Kame and he was old enough to realize some trains show up only once – or twice, so hop on or stay behind.

He opened his door and saw Kame asleep on his couch.

He approached him silently and knelt besides him.

“Hi,” he whispered.

Kame opened his eyes and smiled. “I thought you’d never get here.”

Jun laughed. “So did I.”

 

**101\. Harry Potter and The Order of The Phoenix, J.K. Rowling**   
**(The Sorting Hat’s New Song)**

The first one able to voice the shared disagreement was Nino. “Fuck no!”

Meanwhile Sho tried wording his carefully. “I for sure know that there are only 100 book titles on that list, Jun. You cannot trick us into this.”

“Oh, come on. I know you guys want it!”

“No, we don’t.” And when Jun bore his insistent stare on him, Nino shouted with emphasis. “We seriously don’t!”

“This is the one with a white owl, right?”

Jun—and Aiba—turned to Ohno beaming. “As a matter a fact, they do, Leader.”

Nino stared hard at the side table mentally telling it to flip on his behalf (was ready to flip the nearest coffee table). And Sho knew that it was a lost battle for him (and Nino) but he valiantly tried his last bargain with his best pleading face. “Please don’t.”

Jun was ready to say that it was futile to resist the idea when Ohno was one step ahead of him and sealed the deal by asking, “Aiba-chan, you’ve met a white owl before, right?”

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_“Accio Brain!”_

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Nino ended up deliberately messing all his lines and Sho wasn’t a good sport about the skit either, but Ohno twirled his robe and Aiba managed to help Jun to not only get a white owl but also three more of them. By the end of the introduction part, Jun had to say that he now had completely agreed with Nino and Sho and he shouldn’t even try to cheat himself out of this story.

Aiba waved his wand like the smart wizard that he was supposed to be and Ohno dropped his round glasses. Jun felt his red hair wig slip away and Nino seized his chance by tugging it away and throwing it to the surprised audience.

Sho hollered his attempt of a gibberish summoning spell in a hilarious fake British accent and they all laughed over the improvisation. The audience was deeply impressed and Hino-san informed them, a few weeks later, that the rating was conspicuously high. Nino didn’t believe him; Ohno kept the white owl and Aiba now had more reasons to visit Ohno’s place.

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The final introduction would surely turn into incoherent hilarity with their giggles and fake straight faces, but Jun trusted everyone to carry the direction faithfully. There's no need to be stressed this time; it would still be one of his favorite days ever.

.


End file.
